Remoos
by brutalbloodycato
Summary: It was a futile thing, he found, to attempt to read a novel - one of his favourites, he added bitterly - during one of the Marauders' drunken nights. - Fluff & Remus/Sirius


Sirius tilted his head back, downing yet another shot of firewhiskey. He wiped away the bits that trickled down his chin with the sleeve of his robes, smirking when he caught Remus rolling his eyes. "What s'matter, Rem_oo_s?"

"You act like you'll never have alcohol again," Remus stated, his gaze flickering from his book to Sirius' grinning face and back. "And we all know that's not true."

"I could die tomorrow, Moony. I might never drink again!" said Sirius.

"And if you were to die tomorrow, Sirius, it would most likely be _because_ of drinking."

Remus snapped his book shut, sighing as he placed it delicately beside him. It was a futile thing, he found, to attempt to read a novel - one of his favourites, he added bitterly - during one of the Marauders' drunken nights. Although both James and Peter had the kindness to indulge in firewhiskey and butterbeer in the common room, it was Sirius who opted to get Remus to join in with their antics. The former was already drunk, it seemed, and the latter just wanted to read in peace.

Sirius frowned at him. "C'mon, Moons, you're no fun."

"Sorry that I don't find the idea of getting sloshed particularly exciting," Remus muttered, bringing his legs close to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. The movement made his body momentarily flare in pain, bringing with it memories of a few mornings ago in the infirmary, but the fulgurant agony died as fast as it had begun, and Moony's face did not betray him.

"I never said you had to get _sloshed_," Sirius said. "Just... kick back and relax a little."

"I was relaxed until you came up here."

Sirius melodramatically placed his hand over his heart, pretending to sob. "That _hurts_, Remus, it really does!"

"Yeah? The truth does that sometimes," said Remus.

"Nothing? You're not even going to apologise for making me _cry_? Lord, you have no heart!"

Remus shrugged.

Padfoot sighed, running his fingers through tufts of his jet-black hair. A smile played on his lips as he leaned back against the bed behind him, his hands wrapped tight around the neck of a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey. "Tell me, Remus, when was the last time you had a good shag?"

"_What_?"

"Well, that's _obviously_ why you're so reserved, innit? Because it's been so long!"

Moony rolled his eyes as he moved his hands to shield his face, desperate to conceal the faint redness edging its way up to his cheeks. "Padfoot, that's none of your business..."

"That long, huh?" said Sirius. "I could help you, y'know?"

"W-What?"

"Not like _that_, you tosser. I meant, like, I could find you a nice bird, and I could tell you a few of the places I know that no-one checks, and I -"

Remus rubbed his temples. "Sirius, this is how I _normally_ am. I do not need a 'good shag', all right?"

"Oh, I geddit," said Sirius, nodding. "You play for the other team, don't you?"

"And how on earth did you come to _that_ conclusion, Sirius?" Remus asked, his face flushed.

"Are you denying it?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, grinning again. "Remus John Lupin, are you a shirt lifter?"

"Once again, it's _really_ none of your business."

"So you are, aren't you?"

"Sirius..."

"Bloody hell, Moons, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I didn't say I _was_ ashamed of it."

"So you _are_ gay, then?"

"Oh... fuck."

Padfoot threw back his head and barked laughter, and Remus wanted no more to slap him across the face for being so loud. Or maybe it was because he'd just worked out something that Moony had been so adamant upon keeping to himself. Or, maybe, he just wanted to slap himself across the face, because he actually fell for one of Sirius' simplest tricks. _Idiot_.

"So, how often do you snog boys?" asked Sirius, still smiling. "And _when_? You're basically never without us!"

"I don't snog boys, Sirius," Remus said. "I don't snog anyone."

"Never?"

"Never."

"You're seventeen, Moony."

"I'm also a werewolf, Padfoot, or have you forgotten that?" Remus shook his head. "I shouldn't be snogging or shagging anyone. It wouldn't be right."

Sirius sighed. "I've learnt three things tonight. One: you're gay. Two: you're a werewolf. And three: you're _daft_."

"You're taking the piss out of me," Remus stated.

"How'd you guess?"

Remus squeezed his legs, closing his eyes and hoping to high heavens that Sirius wouldn't remember this exchange in the morning. Surely that would be the case, wouldn't it? It was often that Padfoot would wake in the late hours of the next day, completely disoriented and in need of someone to explain the night beforehand to him before he would boast of it. And no-one else knew of this, Moony was certain, so it was that thought which made him let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

"How much have you had to drink, Sirius?" Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged, playing with the bottle he held. Firewhiskey dribbled from the top and down Sirius' fingers, which he proceeded to lick away before laughing. "Not much, Moony."

Ignoring that gesture, Remus further pressed the subject. "How many bottles have you had?"

"Not many."

"That's not a number."

"Your point?" said Sirius. He straightened up, putting the bottle on the floor beside him, and his expression softened. "I love you, Re_moo_s, y'know that, don't you?"

"Sure," Remus said, "though calling me Remoos doesn't exactly help remind me."

Sirius laughed. "All right, then, Moons. D'you want your first kiss to be with someone you love?"

"I don't know," admitted Remus, bashful. "I guess?"

He realised, too late, what that entitled. Colour touched his cheeks and he wanted to say '_wait, I didn't mean _that_!_', but Sirius was closing the distance and his words stuck in his throat. Padfoot was close - _too_ close - and his face was in such detail that Remus couldn't help but want to soak up the sight before him. The loose strands of black hair that fell across his brow, the angles of his face, his long lashes and his silver-gray eyes. He found himself going cross-eyed trying to see everything, so he did what was instinctive and closed his eyes.

Sirius' mouth touched Moony's, slowly at first as though testing waters, then much more firmer as a pair of hands cupped his face and fire ignited underneath Padfoot's fingertips. His heart hammered against his rib-cage and he was sure that Sirius could so easily hear it, but he didn't seem to mind so much because he was deepening the kiss and his long fingers were creeping their way toward Remus' hair.

When Sirius pulled back, blinking after Remus' lungs had screamed for air, the latter realised that he had liked that embrace far too much. He could still feel the warmth that trailed along with Sirius' touch, could still feel his stomach lurch as he fought the urge to pull him back, could scarcely manage a coherent thought much less a sentence.

"So," said Sirius, breaking the silence. His gaze did not waver, did not move away from Remus' except to blink. "Shirt lifter, huh? Interesting."

He got up, stretching his arms out with a faint _pop_, and walked toward the door. Moony's eyes followed him, though he still could not muster the ability to speak. Sirius hovered before the door-way, his thin lips parted while he visibly considered something, and then he smiled at Remus.

"I've only had half a bottle, by the way," he said, before ducking out of the room.

Moony blinked. Maybe Sirius _would_ remember, afterall.


End file.
